Sorry Not Sorry

I’ve been through a personal development program. I have spoke to counselors. I have tried to tell my peers that they will never understand what I am going through until they lose their mother.

She lived a hard life. By the time I came along she was in her thirties, just like I am now. I can look at pictures from when I was a baby and know she loved me dearly. I loved her too. This is where I get my determination and never give up attitude. I get depression from my dad. We all had a good relationship. Poor but humble, smart but never made the right choice, or we would follow our heart instead of our minds. My mother was more like my friend.

When I had children of my own she helped me greatly. She had given up children before I came along and tried her best to make up for any wrongs she ever done. A workaholic and follower of politics. She had an opinion about everything. She was strong, but not strong enough to take care of her health. She worked until I convinced her to retire. She had a back surgery and became addicted to prescription pain medicines. They pretty much slowed her down and she quickly became diabetic. She had a number of health problems and smoked and drank coffee until she finally passed with cancer. It started in her lungs and went to her brain. I took care of her for years. The addiction that she had was a slow killer.

Her legs would swell and bust and bleed. I would come to check on her on my lunch break and she would have burned her legs with spilled coffee and the carpet around her chair would be dotted with cigarette burns. She had no idea she had any addiction problem.

Being a caretaker is a lot of work. I let my children go and became an addict myself. I felt like I had to have something to use to keep up. I worked and took care of different house holds. She passed while I was in jail for yet another DWI. I would not have been strong enough to attend the funeral anyways. I hope it was beautiful.

I went to rehab and my father died a year after my mother. He couldn’t stand it either. I noticed that the most reoccurring excuse for drug use and depression was childhood experiences. How was your childhood? What was your relationship with your parents like? I didn’t realize how I had been blaming my parents especially my mother for everything until I didn’t have her to lean on for everything.

No one is perfect, but in my eyes, my mother was the best. I never kept a secret from her, right up until the end. If I was in front of her now, if we could have one good chance to talk, I would apologize for using her as an excuse. I would confess that I blamed her for every problem I ever had. I would let her know that she seemed to be the reason I lost my kids.

I feel guilty every day. My son has depression and I believe he feels the same way I did about my mother. Nothing is ever enough. You will never please everyone but just like I had to realize that everything was not her fault, I hope he too will come to that conclusion one day.

So yes, sorry, not sorry pretty much sums it up. The twelve step program says that I should admit to myself and at least one other person, and since she is not here to tell my one and only secret, I can only hope she knows anyways. Addiction is very strong, but nothing like the strong bond I had with Mama! I know she would understand. I know she appreciated me putting my life on hold to take care of her. I am glad we had a little extra time together.